


Look baby, this is none of my business

by StrawberryLane



Series: The Astoria Spa and Hotel Resort [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Cheating, Established Relationship, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Gossip, Hotel staff, M/M, Misunderstandings, POV Female Character, POV Outsider, Undercover, Undercover Missions, Undercover as a Couple, not the same relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-08-08 10:53:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16427996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrawberryLane/pseuds/StrawberryLane
Summary: Robbie doesn’t freak out when coming face to face with the rich and famous because she basically gets paid not to. The Astoria Hotel Spa and Resort – Astoria for short – sees a lot of people, most of them famous, and having its staff lose it because Rihanna or Taylor Swift may walk through the doors is unthinkable.She’s usually much more professional than this. But, and Robbie thinks her behavior can be excused, this is Tony Stark.And, apparently, his brand new boy toy. Who knew?





	Look baby, this is none of my business

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this while listening obsessively to Cher Lloyd's None of my business (hence the title).

Robbie prides herself on being cool. She’s so cool she’s basically the human equivalent of a freezer. She’s met Mariah Carey five times. Leonardo DiCaprio once gave her fifty dollars because she got him a bottle of champagne from the kitchen after closing – she’s damn good at customer service, everybody knows that – and she once saw Beyoncé and Jay-Z from afar.

 

Robbie doesn’t freak out when coming face to face with the rich and famous because she basically gets paid not to. The Astoria Hotel Spa and Resort – Astoria for short – sees a lot of people, most of them famous, and having its staff lose it because Rihanna or Taylor Swift may walk through the doors is unthinkable. Robbie’s whole interviewing process was basically about one thing and one thing only – can you be professional when faced with someone famous telling you they lost their keys to their room or wanting pizza at 2 am?

 

Robbie can. She passed all the tests Mr Whiting threw her way with flying colors. She’s damn cool and put together when it comes to handling guests, no matter if she was just reading about their wild partying ways five minutes ago on her break or not.

 

She’s usually much more professional than this. But, and Robbie thinks her behavior can be excused, this is Tony Stark.

 

And, apparently, his brand new boy toy. Robbie didn’t even know the man had a boy toy and she’s an avid stalker of both twitter and the internet in general.

 

So she thinks she’s got the right to be excused for gaping a little.

 

Honestly, she’d slept soundly at night, believing Stark to still be in a loving relationship with Pepper Potts. This is breaking her heart, for real. What happened?

 

Tony Stark can’t read minds, however, and doesn’t bother answering her unasked, silent question about what happened between him and miss Potts. Instead he puts an arm around his new boy toy – the man is some years younger, with short brown hair and a sleeve of tattoos on his left arm – and demands Robbie gives him the keys to his suite this instant.

 

Robbie, because she prides herself on being professional at all times, signs the couple in, gives Stark the keys and tries to avoid seeing the way the man is all but openly groping his boyfriend’s ass right in Astoria’s lobby.

 

Poor Pepper Potts, she thinks as she watches the couple walk away, clearly having eyes for no one but each other.

 

But then, what does she really know about it?

 

*

 

Grant, the new janitor/handy-man/whatever-man, laughs at Robbie’s dramatic retelling of the event that just took place in the lobby, spewing crumbs everywhere.

 

“You feeding him again, Martha?” scolds Robbie good naturally, stealing a piece of bacon from the sizzling pan. Martha swats her hand away, laughing too.

 

“The boy was hungry and nobody can resist those puppy eyes, honey,” says Martha, placing a couple of bacon strips on a plate and handing them to Grant along with a heavily buttered roll. “And besides, he needs to keep his strength up.”

 

Grant smiles at that and makes a big show of taking a big bite of his sandwich.

 

“Can’t help it,” he garbles through the food. “I need to eat a lot.”

 

Grant’s big, is the thing. In the way a proper gym rat is big. Not that Robbie’s been actively looking, but the man has an eight-pack, at the very least. He’s fit, looking like a greek god mixed with the adorableness of a golden retriever. Most of the girls – and more than half of the guys – have at least half a crush on the guy.

 

He’s also very, very off limits. Or at least he says he is, and Robbie doesn’t think it’s just a tactic to get Hannah off his back. A boyfriend back home in New York, apparently. James, or something like that.

 

It’s unfortunate, Robbie thinks, that all the genuinely good guys often turn out to be either taken or gay or, as in Grant’s case, both.

 

“Get back to work,” she tells him, even though both of them know she’s got no real authority. That’s all Mr Whiting and his right hand woman, Tillie. But neither Mr Whiting nor Tillie has graced the kitchens with their glorious presence today. All the better, Robbie thinks. If there’s someone in this building that gets on her nerves, it’s Tillie. She’s just so – she’s just annoying. And she simpers, all the god damn time.

 

“Yes ma’am,” Grant counters, swallowing the last of his sandwich and saluting Martha on his way out the door. Robbie does in no way whatsoever watch him leave.

 

*

 

Robbie’s usually pretty good at not listening in or caring about the guests as they have dinner or do whatever around the resort but today she’s having a bad day and she just can’t help it. Pablo called in sick this morning and since they’re already short-staffed to begin with, she’s had to step in.

 

So here she is, doing her best to appear professional as a waitress even though she’s got no clue what the fuck she’s doing. She got a five minute crash course by Louise about ten minutes before lunch officially began, but it had been nowhere near enough.

 

How is she supposed to explain the difference between Green Carrot Soup and Carrot Green Soup when she herself has no fucking idea? And no, she hasn’t actually tasted everything that’s on the menu, but she can’t tell that to the old, sweet lady by the windows, now can she? So she just smiles and tells the lady that the Oregon trout sure is the tastiest fish dish she’s ever put in her mouth.

 

So, needless to say, Robbie isn’t having the best day ever when Tony Stark and his boyfriend – Jim Buchanan, according to Luke who cleans their suite – walks in. They’ve both made something of an effort, it seems, dressed in business casual clothes and wearing sunglasses despite being indoors. Just like when they checked in, they look like they’re joined at the hip. The boyfriend’s laughing loudly at something Stark says.

 

So far, Stark and his boyfriend hasn’t made the best impression on the staff at Astoria Robbie knows. Sure, they’re civil and polite enough, but apparently have a tendency to be in places they’re not supposed to be in. Like when Luke walked in on them fooling around in the supply closet, like they didn’t have their own damn suite just down the hall.

 

Apparently Buchanan had been on his knees, which is more information than Robbie ever needed to know.

 

The couple both order the salmon dish for lunch, seemingly spending most of it on their phones, not talking. Not that that is in any way unusual, but still. Going on a romantic vacation and then spending it on your phone? Waste of money and time, in Robbie’s opinion.

 

Stark openly flirts with Louise, too, and Robbie can see from a mile away that Buchanan doesn’t like that. Like, not at all. He glares at Louise at every chance he gets, like he’s daring her to encourage his boyfriend.

 

Louise’s smart as fuck, though, so Robbie’s not worried. Astoria’s seen more than its fair share of scandals over the years, but she’s confident that “Stark cheating on boyfriend with waitress” will not be one of them.

 

“I’m going for a walk,” Buchanan announces when Robbie’s taking their empty plates away. He pockets his phone and throws his boyfriend -Sugar daddy?- a grin. “You coming?”

 

Stark waves him away, his eyes still glued to the phone. It’s like Robbie doesn’t even exist, she thinks, balancing the plates and the cute little bread basket on one arm while collecting the wine glasses.

 

“Suit yourself,” Buchanan mutters, standing up and dusting some invisible dust off his light shirt. He lingers for a moment, as if to see if Stark will change his mind and join him for a stroll, but no luck. Stark remains glued to his phone and Buchanan leaves with a huff just as Robbie’s successfully managed to collect everything off the table.

 

As Buchanan leaves, Robbie swears she hears Stark mutter something that sounds too much like “idiot,” to be anything else.

 

 

Uh, oh, Robbie thinks, there’s trouble in paradise already? Oh dear.

 

*

 

“Three months!” Louise shouts from where she’s seated in the back of the kitchen, digging into a plate of Spaghetti Carbonara and scrolling through her phone.

 

Rush hour has died down considerably, making it possible for the kitchen staff to scoff down a bite or two of their own lunches before they need to begin preparing for dinner.

 

“What?” asks Robbie around a piece of garlic bread. She’s seated on the floor, as out of the way as she can be when Martha and the other cooks are all running around, preparing for dinner.

 

There’s a reason Robbie didn’t apply for a job as kitchen staff, she thinks. It looks way too intense.

 

“Stark and his boy toy,” Louise explains through a mouthful of spaghetti. “They can’t have been together for more than three months because Stark attended the Met Gala with Pepper Potts in May.”

 

“That doesn’t mean a thing, though. They could be amicably broken up?” Robbie tries.

 

“No way,” Martha puts in as she rushes past, “Pepper Potts is way too classy to attend the Met Gala with her ex. No matter that she’s still the CEO of his company. But you gotta admit, there’s something fishy going on with Stark and his boyfriend. Ronny says Luke told him they’re not sleeping in the same bed.”

 

“And how does Luke know this?” asks Robbie, because she’s getting tired of Luke’s shit. She’s already had to remind him about acting professionally three times this month alone and that’s three times too many.

 

Martha shrugs. “I don’t know, ask him. He says he went in to clean last week and the sofa had been slept on.”

 

“That doesn’t mean anything, just like the Met Gala doesn’t mean anything.”

 

Louise cuts in. “Yeah, but dude, you’ve seen them. They’re all attached at the hip and shit. No way those two aren’t going at it like rabbits every night. Not sleeping in the same bed is fishy, you’ve gotta admit.”

 

“Stark seemed to be flirting pretty openly with you during lunch.”

 

Louise shrugs. “He didn’t mean anything by it. Stark’s the type to flirt with a cactus if he thinks that’s going to put him in someone’s good books. It’s all for show.”

 

“So maybe they had a fight? Every couple fights.”

 

It’s clear Louise doesn’t believe her. “Yeah, right.”

 

Robbie nods. “No, really. They were bickering when I was cleaning up their table. And, and, they didn’t even speak to each other once during lunch. Clearly fighting about something.”

 

“What are we talking about?” a new voice cuts in and Martha, Louise and Robbie all turn to see Grant coming in through the staff entrance, carrying his tool box. He looks sweaty, like he’s been out in the scorching sunshine.

 

 

“Stark and his boyfriend,” Martha replies, already pushing a heaping plate of Spaghetti Carbonara into his hands.

 

Grant hums. “What about them?” he asks, taking a seat next to Louise.

 

“They’re being fishy,” whispers Louise and looks around the kitchen to see if anyone outside of their little group heard her, like she’s committing a crime by telling Grant this.

 

Grant frowns. “Fishy?” he asks, twirling his fork. “How?”

 

“Luke says they’re not sleeping in the same bed and they were bickering during lunch,” Louise continues, still whispering.

 

“So they’ve been fighting. What’s fishy about that?” says Grant. “Me and B- my boyfriend fight all the time. Sometimes that’s just how it is.”

 

“Yes!” shouts Robbie, giving Grant a high five. “Somebody agrees with me!”

 

*

 

“Everything all right here?” Robbie chirps as she rushes past Stark and Buchanan during dinner. If she’s being honest, she’s been avoiding their table because of how sickeningly sweet they’ve been acting. Their little tiff at lunch seems to have been long forgotten, if their intertwined hands on top of the table and the way they’re staring into each others eyes are anything to go by.

 

“Just dandy,” replies, Buchanan, not even looking away from Stark. “Or what do you say, honey pie?”

 

Stark flashes a grin. “Ah, yes. Everything’s excellent, sweet pea.”

 

It’s so sweet Robbie wants to barf.

 

 

 

*

 

A week passes and Robbie is still not clear on how the relationship between Stark and Buchanan works or even how it began. Where’s buzzfeed when you need them?

 

All she knows is that for a couple supposedly in fairy tale land, they sure do seem to argue and bicker a lot. Not that Robbie’s ever heard them personally, but she’s heard rumors and something about the way Buchanan sometimes puts his hand on Stark’s chest and fake laughs loudly at something that’s not even remotely funny gets on Robbie’s nerves. It seems like it’s strained between them more often than not, despite the sickeningly sweet pet names and Stark treating his lover to everything.

 

Seriously, if Buchanan even as much as mentions something offhandedly, Stark’s there, ready with his wallet.

 

It’s just one of many things about them that rubs Robbie the wrong way.

 

 

She’s been called in to cover Pablo’s shift again because he’s still off sick, the fucker. So here she is, trying not to show with her whole body how all she wants is to go home and watch Keeping up with the Kardashians and eat a mountain of popcorn. But no, she still has the whole night to go. The restaurant may officially close at ten pm, but the bar is open for much longer.

 

“I’m going for a walk,” Buchanan announces to his boyfriend just as Robbie passes by. “Want to join me?”

 

Just like a week ago, at lunch, Stark waves him off. “Nah. You go, I’ll just have a few drinks and call it a night.”

 

Buchanan nods, bending down to kiss Stark on the cheek. “Kay,” he says, “Text me when you’re ready to head back, okay?”

 

Stark pretends to wipe spit off his cheek. “Sure, mom,” he says, smirking.

 

*

 

Halfway through clearing off their table, Robbie’s hit with the stray thought of forgetting to tell Luke to air out rooms 145 and 179 and she rushes into the kitchen.

 

“Hey,” she tells Louise, “I’ve just got to run upstairs to tell Luke to air out a couple of rooms. New guests arriving at midnight. Be right back.”

 

“Luke ain’t here!” Louise yells after her. “Grant’s covering his shift!”

 

With that information in hand, Robbie goes on the hunt for Grant. Getting off the elevator on the fifth floor, she spies the cleaning cart Luke favors parked further down the hall. Grant is nowhere in sight, though, so she sets off down the corridor until she comes upon room 134, door only halfway closed.

 

It takes her a second to register the noise in the air, preoccupied as she is. It doesn’t hit her until she’s already pushed the door all the way open.

 

Those are sex noises. As in, the kind of panting and moaning people do when they’re in the throes of passion. And there, clearly visible in the large mirror hanging on the wall next to the door is Buchanan and Grant, going at it like rabbits. They’re both naked as the day they were born, clearly in the midst of fucking. Buchanan’s not a small guy by any means, but Grant is hoisting him up against the wall like it’s nothing. Robbie’s honestly kind of impressed.

 

“-baby, please,” Grant moans and Robbie would actually have preferred it if she never heard her college say those words, like, ever. Especially not like that.

 

“Only a little while longer, honey,” coos Buchanan – or should she start calling him Jim now that she’s seen him in all his glory? - back.

 

“I can’t take it any long-” Grant says, still thrusting away. Robbie’s in the middle of realizing that maybe they’re talking about something other than the sex they’re currently having when Buchanan opens his eyes and swears. Loudly.

 

They lock eyes through the mirror for a nanosecond before Robbie frantically pulls the door shut, shouting a “Fuck, shit, sorry!” at the top of her lungs before taking off back to the elevator.

 

*

 

Stark is still drinking at the bar when Robbie makes it back to the restaurant. Poor guy, she thinks as she watches him. Should she tell him? Tell him that his boyfriend is currently fucking the hotel’s janitor/handy-man in their room?

 

That, based on their conversation, this doesn’t seem to be the first time it’s happened?

 

She’s still mulling it over when, about thirty minutes later, Buchanan, once again dressed in the clothes he had on earlier in the evening and with wet hair, comes strolling back into the restaurant through the patio doors leading outside, like he’s really been on a walk, after all.

 

“Hey babe,” he says as he reaches his drinking boyfriend at the bar. “Ready to hit the hay?”

 

The words are on the tip of Robbie’s tongue. It’d be so easy, she thinks, to tell Stark everything she saw.

 

“Your hair’s wet,” Stark informs Buchanan. “Did you go for a swim as well?”

 

“Sure did,” says Buchanan, the lie seemingly slipping out easily. “And then I had a shower. Didn’t want to be all salty from the sea. What do you say, let’s go to bed?”

 

Stark sways a bit when he stands up, throwing money at the bar. It’s probably more than enough to cover his drinks, Robbie thinks and picks the bills up, counting them.

 

“Only if you show me a good time,” mumbles Stark as Buchanan puts an arm around his waist to help steady him.

 

“Sure, old man,” Buchanan teases. “I’ll show you the best damn time.”

 

“Here,” Robbie cuts in, thrusting the money Stark left on the counter towards his cheating boyfriend. “It’s way too much.”

 

Buchanan studies her for a moment, accepting the money. “Thanks.” He leans closer, clearly not wanting Stark to hear, “You didn’t see shit, got it?”

 

Robbie, because she prides herself on being professional firs and foremost, smiles politely. “Saw what? I hope you have a good night, sir.”

 

She regrets it the moment the couple disappears through the doors.

 

*

 

Grant clearly knows she knows because when they bump into each other by the pool the next morning, he falls over himself trying to apologize.

 

“Tell that to Stark!” she says, satisfaction filling her mind at the way Grant’s eyes nearly bugs out of his head. “You told him?” he whispers furiously.

 

“Not yet. His boyfriend kind of threatened me. But I’m gonna tell him, so I suggest you tell Mr Whiting you’re quitting as soon as possible. You know you’re gonna be fired anyway, when everybody finds out.”

 

Grant audibly gulps.

 

“And don’t get me started on your poor boyfriend back home!” Robbie continues, having worked herself up by now. “Or are you going to tell me he isn’t real, just someone you made up to get the girls off your back?”  


At that, Grant laughs. It sounds defeated.

 

“No, no. He’s real. It’s just – It’s complicated, okay?”

 

“What on earth about this is complicated?”

 

Grant very clearly makes a decision.

 

“James is Jim,” he says, making absolutely no sense.

 

“Sorry?”

 

“Jim is James,” Grant explains, like it’s going to make more sense the other way around. “I wasn’t cheating on my boyfriend last night, I was fucking him.”

 

“But-”

 

“Just don’t say anything to anyone yet, okay? I promise you it’s going to make sense in the end.”

 

With that, Grant just gets up and leaves Robbie by the pool, like he hasn’t just turned her whole world upside down.

 

What the fucking fucker’s fuck is going on?

 

*

 

Two days later, Robbie walks in on Grant and Buchanan kissing in the supply closet.

 

“How long has this been going on?” she demands, even though she’s got fuck all to do with this.

 

“Uh,” says Buchanan, at least looking a little sheepish at having been caught. “Since we were kids?”

 

Robbie throws her hands up. “I’m telling Stark,” she announces, no longer caring that getting dragged into this mess isn’t the professional thing to do.

 

Grant drags a hand across his eyes and Buchanan chuckles. “You do that,” he says and that’s not ominous at all.

 

Grant hisses something that sounds like an insult at Buchanan, but nobody actually tries to stop Robbie from leaving, so she does. Straight down to Stark’s suite she goes.

 

Stark opens the door like he’s been waiting for her. She hardly has to knock before it’s wrenched open, revealing the man she’s looking for dressed in a bathrobe and a whiskey glass in his hand. It’s mostly empty.

 

“Rogers told me you might be stopping by,” he says instead of welcome and what? Who’s Rogers?

 

“Mr Stark,” Robbie begins, trying not to get starstruck in the face of Tony god damn Stark. “I have information of private nature I believe I need to pass onto you.”

 

Stark looks both ways to make sure there’s no one else nearby before inviting her in. Robbie slips past Stark, very carefully not looking at the mirror on the wall nor the spot where she accidentally saw Grant fucking Stark’s boyfriend.

 

“I think I know what this is about-” Stark begins and Robbie cuts him off.

 

“Your boyfriend’s cheating on you!”

 

“Bingo,” says Stark cheerfully instead of being heartbroken like Robbie was sure he would be. “I was aware of that, but thank you for telling me.”

 

“I- what? You already knew?”

 

“Look, gossip girl, I’m going to let you in on a secret. Bucky – or Jimmy or whatever you want to call him – and I aren’t actually a couple.”

 

Robbie splutters. “What? Who’s Bucky? And who’s Rogers?”

 

Stark gives her a wry smile over the rim of his glass. “Rogers? Steven Grant Rogers, aka Captain America, aka the sweetheart of the nation and his boyfriend, James Barnes aka Jim Buchanan.”

 

 

*

 

How on earth didn’t she see it before? Robbie thinks. Grant bears an uncanny resemblance to USA’s most patriotic man. And while James “Bucky” Barnes may keep himself out of the public eye as much as he can, the man has made some public appearances. Jim Buchanan does really look scarily much like the most feared assassin in the world.

 

“Do you think we broke her?” asks Grant – no, Captain America – sounding concerned.

 

“Don’t know,” comes the reply and Bucky Barnes does really sounds like he could not care less. It kind of stings. “She almost blew our cover.”

 

“Or maybe,” Stark butts in, “You two almost blew our cover when you decided to hook up while you were supposed to be my sugar baby.”

 

Barnes makes a disgusted noise. “Don’t call me that. I’m older than you.”

 

“I’m richer,” comes the snarky reply and Robbie can’t help but giggle.

 

“Oh good,” someone says from above her. “She’s awake.”

 

*

 

“Ohmygod! Ohmygod! Ohmygod!” Louise ambushes Robbie the minute she walks inside the lobby. She had to take a few days off, citing illness and exhaustion. Damn super-spies and their ways.

 

“What?” Robbie asks, her headache already returning.

 

“GRANT WAS CAPTAIN AMERICA!” Louise shouts, even though she’s already next to Robbie. “Like, undercover!” she continues. “And Stark and his boyfriend too!”

 

“Really?” Robbie replies and if she sounds lukewarm, well, Louise doesn’t seem to notice or care.

 

“Yeah! And they arrested Mr Whiting and Tillie for smuggling, like, alien weapons! How cool is that?! Captain America undercover here!”

 

 

There’s a moment of silence as Louise flaps her hands like a seal. She lets out a squeal.

 

“Oh my god! I shared food with Captain America! I’ve practically been on a date with Steve Rogers! My LIFE has been made!”

 

Robbie just laughs. She just can’t help herself.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and I hope you liked it!


End file.
